The Best Show in London
by JamesLuver
Summary: A week away in London with the family affords Anna and John the opportunity to celebrate John's birthday in an interesting way.


**A/N:** This is for **handy-for-the-bus**. Happy Birthday, love! You've been an absolutely wonderful friend to me, listening to my problems and just making me smile all of the time. You're a wonderful person, and I hope my humble offering can show at least a little of the love and appreciation that I feel for you.

The idea for this came around when I asked HFTB what she'd like to see in a birthday fanfic. She graciously gave me a few ideas, and I ended up combining two of them to make this. I hope there are no continuity errors within this. I have tried to edit it as best I can on my extremely tight schedule. Uni work is so annoying, and terrifyingly difficult. Also, thanks must go to **Phoenix-Talon**, who took a look at this beforehand and made me feel a little better about it.

**Disclaimer: **I wish it was mine, but it's not.

* * *

_The Best Show in London_

Anna sighed, tapping her fingers listlessly against her chin as she peered into the shop window. She had been searching for the perfect gift for John's birthday for the past two months in the hopes of finding something truly special, but so far nothing had caught her eye. And now she was running out of time.

She supposed she could always get him a book. John loved them, and it made her happy to see him sitting in their cottage at night with his feet up, reading quietly while she pottered about the room, or else sat tucked up against his side with her head against his chest, letting its rise and fall soothe her as he breathed.

But those were the kinds of every day gifts that could be given whenever the fancy overtook her. This time, Anna wanted something a little more special. It would be John's first birthday outside of prison, the first birthday that they could celebrate as a married couple without having to exchange simple, secret gifts away from prying eyes. She wanted to be able to give him the world, to let him know that she loved him more with every day that passed. She knew that John himself was dreading the day arriving – he was constantly grumbling that it reminded him that he was getting far too old, and that he'd prefer not to acknowledge it. Anna could only roll her eyes at that, teasing him that it was supposed to be the woman who worried about such things.

Anna sighed again. Nothing in this shop window was catching her eye either. Listlessly, she began to move on, wandering down the streets of York. She was glad that Lady Mary had granted her the extra time on her half-day to go further afield. In the village and in Ripon, the choice was sadly narrower. In a prospering city, Anna was sure that the right present could be found. She just had to be patient. She was good at that.

Briefly, she wondered what John was doing now. Although they had been given the same half-day off so that they could spend some time together beyond a few snatched hours at the end of a long day, John had not been granted the same privilege of a few extra hours off today. He'd been a little despondent that he couldn't accompany her to York, and Anna did miss his company, but it was for the best. John would only get under her feet as she tried to search for a gift for him, and the memories of York prison were still raw. She herself wasn't comfortable being here. She could only imagine how John would feel if he'd come.

Well, she didn't have to stay long. Just long enough to find the perfect gift. Then she could catch the next train back to Downton and find her husband in their cottage. Perhaps then they could take a walk in the country together. Or even just tackle a few odd jobs around the house. The garden still needed weeding. Anna was hoping to start planting flowers now that spring was here. Or (and Anna had to hide her sudden smirk behind her hand), perhaps they would spend the afternoon in bed together, snared in sheets and each other, alternating between lying there quietly and talking softly, and making each other moan. It was their tradition. John might have been out of prison for a few months now, but the excitement of married life was still very new to them. Anna loved taking every opportunity that came her way to feel her husband in her arms, to feel him overwhelming her every sense. One day she knew that the heated frenzy that came with the newness of it all would wear off, but until then, Anna was intent on enjoying every moment of what they could get. They had been deprived of their right to make love for far too long for either of them to let the frequency of it die down so soon. Usually, they reserved their lovemaking for the break of the day or for the last few hours of the night, but sometimes they indulged in it more, asking to be excused from tea to run an "errand" that was simply too important to put off. Whoever arrived home first would more than likely already be in bed waiting for the other.

Anna was torn away from her more salacious musings by the glinting of gold in the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she peered into the shop's display window. There were lots of beautiful, intricate items there. But the one that had caught her eye was exquisite, the kind of thing that John would treasure and appreciate. She knew that she had _finally_ found the perfect gift. Sighing in relief, Anna entered the shop, pointing out her choice. Coins were exchanged. The gift was nestled in a little box. Anna slipped it into her handbag and left with a smile. That had been far easier than she'd expected. Perhaps she really would be able to get home in time to spend the whole afternoon with John.

As she walked down the street with an extra spring in her step, however, her attention was once more drawn to a shop's display window. She paused, frowning. She had only caught sight of it by accident. It was tucked discreetly down a side street, although there was nothing discreet about the way that the windows were lit or the displays were arranged. There was one stand in particular that drew Anna's attention. Glancing fervently from side to side, she decided that no one was watching her, and slipped down the side street for a better look.

It took her breath away.

She knew that John would love it. She could see his face now. She just _had_ to buy it, to present it to him, to make the day even more special. She knew he wouldn't be disappointed.

Taking a deep breath, Anna pushed open the door. The bell tingled loudly. She was greeted by the smiling face of the clerk.

"Hello," she said, hoping that her voice was steady.

"Hello," the store owner replied cheerfully. "Has something caught your eye, my dear?"

"Yes," Anna answered, then pointed to the window. "That."

The clerk grinned.

* * *

London was noisy, dirty, rather enjoyable…but certainly _not_ what Anna wanted at the current time. Because today was her husband's birthday, and now that they were in London, it meant that she could not celebrate it with him in the way that she wanted.

It had been decided a few weeks ago that Lady Mary and Mr. Matthew, along with his lordship and her ladyship, would take a much-needed trip to London to open the house for a week or so to visit friends. Lady Edith was not stopping, though she had accompanied them up for the journey to speak with her editor. While London was a treat that had become rarer since the end of the war, and usually Anna enjoyed the hustle and bustle of life in the city because it made a change, this year it was different. She'd been hoping that she and John would be able to spend his birthday at home, having the night to themselves to celebrate however they chose to. But now their plans were ruined.

At least, Anna had thought so. But that didn't mean that she couldn't try to make the most of their situation. She had had an idea brewing for weeks, ever since she and John had been told that they would be taking a trip to London and it would coincide with John's birthday. There was a chance that nothing would come to fruition – she wasn't naïve, she knew that the opportunities awarded to servants were few – but she had to at least try. The Granthams were decent employers, the best around. Anna knew that she had to take her chance.

It was morning, and Lady Mary had just rung. Anna had not seen her husband yet, but that didn't matter. She would see him later, hopefully with good news.

"You seem in good spirits this morning," Lady Mary commented as she regarded her maid through the mirror.

Anna couldn't help but grin broadly. "I suppose I am, milady. It's Mr. Bates' birthday today."

"Oh, how wonderful," Lady Mary exclaimed. "Have you got anything planned for the day?"

Her luck couldn't have been better. At least now Anna wouldn't have to broach the topic. "Well, actually, there's something that I'd like to ask you."

"Ask away," said Lady Mary, perusing the rings laid out on her vanity table.

Anna wrung her hands together, pausing for a moment. "I was wondering if…if perhaps Mr. Bates and I might be allowed the evening off."

"What?" said Lady Mary, tearing her eyes away from what she was doing.

Anna felt herself flush hotly. Perhaps this hadn't been the best idea. Still, she couldn't back away now. "Well, what with it being Mr. Bates' birthday and all…I just thought it might be nice if I could surprise him. I hate asking, milady, but we've never been able to celebrate any landmark like this before as a married couple, and what with the last year we've had…"

"Very well," Lady Mary interrupted. "Just this once, I'll let you have the night off. I'll see Papa. Perhaps the butler and the housekeeper will dress us this evening."

"Oh, thank you, milady!" said Anna gratefully, relief flooding her. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"I'm glad to hear it," replied Lady Mary drily. "Because there's a dress waiting for me at home that needs mending as soon as possible. I'd be grateful if you could do it when we return."

"Yes, milady," sighed Anna.

Lady Mary bit her lip mischievously for a moment. "So, pray tell, what have you been planning for this evening that will take you out of the house and make you unable to perform your duties?"

"I was hoping to go out to dinner," said Anna, picking up a hairbrush. And then, with her insides fluttering with the wings of a thousand butterflies, she added a little guiltily, "and I'd like to take him to see a show."

At this, Lady Mary's eyebrows almost disappeared into her hair. "A London show?"

"Yes, milady."

"What sort of show?"

She squirmed a little. "Well, I'm not sure. We'd have to see what was on."

"You're leaving it a little late. I'm not sure that there's anything that you'd be able to see tonight."

"Oh, I think there will be, milady."

Lady Mary frowned quizzically at the sudden flush that had flooded her maid's cheeks, but quickly dismissed it. "Will you be back in time to dress me for bed?"

"I don't think so, milady. I'm not sure that the show will be over in time."

"Heavens, just how long is this show that you seem to have in mind?"

Now Anna's ears had gone red. She looked decidedly suspicious. "I can't say, milady. I'm not quite sure."

Lady Mary shook her head, deciding that it was all too odd for her to try to work out. "Well, I'm sure that just this once, since it _is_ an important day for you, I can allow you to do this. I'm sure Papa will be content enough too."

"Thank you, milady. It means a lot to me. Truly."

"It's a good job that you work hard the rest of the time. If you were more like O'Brien, I don't think I'd let you."

Anna could only giggle.

She had achieved her goal. Now all she had to do was put the rest of her plan into action.

* * *

When she skipped downstairs into the little servants' hall, she found her husband sitting at the table, stirring sugar into his tea.

"Good morning, Mr. Bates," she said brightly, grinning at him.

"Good morning, Anna," he returned with a grin just as wide.

She slipped into the chair beside him, kissing his cheek briefly as she settled herself down, ignoring the raised eyebrow that Miss O'Brien sent her way. "Happy Birthday."

"Thank you," he said, dropping his hand underneath the table so that he could squeeze her fingers.

They couldn't really say anymore then without running the risk of being overheard, but once the butler and the housekeeper entered the room and struck up a conversation with Mr. Molesley and Miss O'Brien, Anna took the opportunity to lower her voice and lean in closer to her husband.

"Do you think you'll be able to meet me for a few minutes after breakfast?" she murmured.

John paused halfway through raising a piece of toast to his lips. "Yes, I think so. Why?"

"I have some arrangements to discuss with you," she whispered, biting back a grin.

"Arrangements?"

"Yes. And they're very important, so I need you to be there."

"This all sounds very mysterious."

"I should hope so."

They were interrupted then by Mr. Molesley, and they were drawn into the conversation. Anna kept shooting John teasing looks as they talked, knowing that despite his stoic appearance, he was simply bursting with curiosity for what was to come.

When breakfast was over, he followed her outside into the tiny courtyard, leaning against the wall as she turned to make sure that there was no one around eavesdropping.

"I spoke to Lady Mary earlier," Anna began without preamble.

"I thought you spoke to Lady Mary every day," John teased, moving closer.

She swatted his arm playfully, but allowed him to wrap her up in his arms. He nuzzled his nose against her hair, breathing in her scent.

"Mr. Bates, are you trying to distract me?" she accused him, unable to prevent herself from leaning back into his touch.

"Perhaps," he growled. "I've missed you these last few days."

"I've missed you too," she admitted, twisting in his arms. "I hate not being able to sleep beside you."

"Well, it's only for a few days more," he sighed, though he didn't look happy.

"It doesn't mean that I have to like it."

He kissed her temple gently in answer, before pulling away from her slightly. "So what arrangements did you want to speak to me about?"

Anna brightened at once. "I want to speak to you about the arrangements of today."

John looked surprise. "What?"

She couldn't help but grin, running her hands pointedly down his chest. "Well…" she said slowly, "since it's your birthday today, and since it _is_ the first one you've been able to celebrate properly with me, I thought that it might be a nice idea if we could go out tonight."

"And how do you propose we do that? By the time we finish here, it'll be far too late."

"Well, that's the thing. I spoke to Lady Mary about it, and she said that I could have the evening off. She said that she'd speak to his lordship too, so that we can go out and celebrate properly."

"What?" John repeated.

Anna giggled. "Honestly, Mr. Bates, are you losing your hearing in your old age?"

"Very funny," he growled, digging his fingers good-humouredly into her sides and making her squeal. "I'm just trying to comprehend it all. You really asked Lady Mary if we could have the evening off?"

"Would I say I had if I hadn't?" she teased. "Yes, I did. So now, when our duties are done in the afternoon, we can start to get ready for the evening."

"But where are we going to go? London's a bit too expensive for a modest valet."

"The modest valet isn't going to be buying anything today!" Anna said. "He will be treated by his wife."

"I can't let you do that," he said at once. "I won't let you go spending your money on something that's not that important."

She rolled her eyes. "Really, John, you can be impossible sometimes. Your birthday _is_ important to me, and if I recall correctly, we share our money anyway. I've brought a little with me, and I will have enough to treat you like you treat me."

"It's different when I treat you," he protested.

"How so? I want to treat you, and it would make me happy. Are you really going to deny me that?"

He fell silent, though he fixed her with a frown that told her that he wasn't happy about it. She chose to ignore him in favour of pulling him closer.

"Now come here," she murmured. He smiled reluctantly at the look in her eyes – that playful, mischievous light – and allowed her to pull his head down to her level.

"This is a very scandalous position, Mrs. Bates," he murmured, allowing his hands to splay against the breadth of her waist. "I don't think the butler or the housekeeper would be very pleased to find us cavorting around outside when we should be working in there."

"Well, I need to wish my husband a happy birthday properly," she murmured equally lowly, letting her fingers brush against the back of his neck. "And I have been denied the right to kiss you properly all week. I think I need to now."

"I don't suppose I can deny you that right," he murmured, letting one of his hands glide up her body to cup her jaw.

"No, you can't," she breathed, brushing her nose against his. "Happy Birthday, Mr. Bates."

Their lips met then, moving softly together, savouring the feel of something that had been long forbidden. Lady Mary didn't know how lucky she was, Anna thought headily, to be able to kiss Mr. Matthew whenever she wanted, not having to wait until they were in the comfort of their own home to show affection. She let her tongue touch his bottom lip experimentally, and he yielded at once to her, pulling her closer, sliding his tongue over hers as she slipped hers inside, their lips pressing urgently together. They didn't part until they heard the distant crash of something dropping inside, their faces flushed and their breaths hitching. Anna was pleased to note that her husband's eyes had darkened considerably. It sent a thrill of desire arrowing straight through her body. She was not used to going so long without John's touch. But that was all going to change, because she could put her idea into action. She was certain that John was going to love it.

"Thank you," John murmured, stepping away from her. "That was a very lovely gift."

"Believe me," she said, "_that_ wasn't your gift."

"So I'm getting something else? I thought dinner was enough."

"Well, I won't be sharing it until tonight. Now, if you don't mind, I need to go and sort some things out."

"Things? What things?"

She patted his arm. "You'll see soon enough. Patience, Mr. Bates."

"Do you think you could be tempted to give up your secrets if I kiss you again?" he muttered, pressing her back against the wall.

"I don't know," she grinned. "Do you want to test it?"

"Yes," he hissed, moving closer. His hands found her waist again –

"Anna, are you out here?"

It was Miss O'Brien, and she sounded surly. Anna and John jumped apart at once, straightening their clothes.

"Yes, I'm here!" Anna called back, hoping that she didn't sound too guilty. "What is it?"

"Lady Mary is ringing for you."

"All right," she sighed. "I'll be one moment."

She thought she heard the other lady's maid sigh irritably before her footsteps faded. She smiled slightly in John's direction.

"Now I really must be going," she said. "I'm hoping to sneak away for an hour when I've dressed Lady Mary. Tell anyone who asks that I'm running an errand for her. I'll be back before anyone realises that I'm missing."

"I'm not sure I like this new side to you," John teased as he followed her back inside. "It's all very secretive and frustrating."

She paused to throw a cheeky grin over her shoulder. "Well, now you know what it was like for me when you were like this for God knows how many years before we married."

John had to laugh.

* * *

The day passed quickly. Lord Grantham seemed to be working him harder than ever in compensation for allowing him to have the evening off, though he did clap him on the back heartily and say, "Happy Birthday, old chap", which John thought was rather nice, even if it was embarrassing. He did not see Anna again until later that afternoon, when she slipped into the little servants' hall between jobs to sneak a piece of the cook's cake.

"It's all sorted," she told him conspiratorially, taking the chance to offer him a bite while they were alone.

"What's sorted?" he asked her, leaning forward to take her offer.

She shivered as his lips inadvertently brushed against her fingers. "Is your memory going in your old age as well as your hearing?"

"Very funny, he grumbled, allowing her to drop her hand to his knee.

She smiled indulgently. "I've booked us a nice restaurant not far from here for dinner tonight. And afterwards…we're going to see a show."

"A show?" John looked startled. "Anna, it's enough for you to insist on buying dinner. I won't have you wasting your money on a show too."

"I'm sure you'll change your mind once you've seen it," she said lightly. There was something that was not altogether reassuring about her smile.

"Can you at least tell me what the show is? Is it a musical performance?"

There was that smile again. "Well, it's a performance of some kind. But I'm not going to spoil the surprise. All will be revealed soon enough. Now, if you'll excuse me, I ought to be going up to start getting ready."

"But it's only five o'clock."

"Yes, well, a woman needs time to make herself look pretty for her husband, doesn't she? Lady Mary understands these sorts of things; she's dismissed me for the day."

"I wish his lordship's mind worked in the same way," John grumbled as the bell tinkled once again, interrupting them.

Anna's laughter was light. "You'll be free soon enough."

"And being able to spend the evening with you will be a worthy gift."

"I'm sure it will, Mr. Bates," she smirked.

* * *

Standing in front of the mirror, Anna scrutinised herself carefully. She touched her hair, brushing against the strands that she had allowed to stay free from her plaited bun, the strands curling gently against her cheeks. Lady Mary had kindly allowed her to borrow her curling iron so that she could do something a little different with her hair, and she was pleased with the results. It was reminiscent of the way it had looked all those years ago when she'd discovered John in Kirkbymoorside, and she smiled a little wistfully at the memory of herself sitting up late into the night, painstakingly practising with Lady Mary's new curling iron, hoping on some sub-conscious level that he would notice the effort that she had made for him.

And he had.

Smile brightening, Anna turned to pick up her hat from her bed, fixing it carefully in place. It was a lovely hat, a gift from John, decorated with a pretty blue ribbon and some kind of flower. She hadn't had much cause to wear it because of their hectic schedules, but Anna thought that it was perfect for the evening.

She had even been allowed to sample a little of Lady Mary's makeup, something that she wouldn't have even have thought possible despite the bond that had formed between servant and mistress.

"_Well, you want to look nice, don't you?"_ Lady Mary had said earlier, smirking a little.

"_Of course I do," _Anna had replied, though she wasn't sure if she was supposed to feel insulted or not at the remark. She'd comforted herself with the thought that even if she turned up wearing nothing but a rubbish bag, John would declare that he'd never seen someone as lovely. His utter reverence of her had certainly helped her to feel more confident about herself. And Lady Mary was right. Even if it was taking some getting used to – a servant's life didn't leave any room for dressing up and looking pretty – Anna had to admit that she liked what she saw in the mirror in front of her. She hadn't gone overboard – just a little mascara and a touch of powder – but it made her blue eyes stand out and added a little colour to her pale cheeks. She couldn't wait to see John's reaction.

At the thought, Anna turned to glance at the little clock standing on the side of her bed. It was seven o'clock. She had made a reservation at a quaint little restaurant for eight. They would need to set off soon so that they wouldn't be late. And afterwards, there was the show.

Anna's stomach flipped a little at that, and she grinned to herself. They were both sure to enjoy it.

Snatching up her bag, Anna left her little room behind. On the way down, she ran into the housekeeper, Mrs. Brown, who eyed her dubiously. A woman who was a little older than Mrs. Hughes, she seemed more like Mr. Carson in her outlook of the world.

"You look…nice," she said uncertainly, obviously hesitant about the makeup on someone of her class.

"Thank you," Anna said brightly. "I'm looking forward to the evening."

"Well, you would be, having the night off," she replied, looking a little irritated. Anna shut her mouth quickly. She wasn't talking to Mrs. Hughes now, who would have been glad of helping her out. It was better not to push her luck too far.

And yet, she had to.

"May I borrow the spare key to lock up?" she asked tentatively.

"I beg your pardon?"

She felt her ears beginning to flush beneath her hat. "Well, you see, Mr. Bates and I have been given permission to go and see a show after dinner. Since we're not sure what time it's supposed to end, we'd hate for one of you to have to stay up just to let us in. If you let me have the spare key, I can use it without disturbing any of you tonight. I don't want to be a complete nuisance, and it would be easier for everyone this way."

"I don't know, Mrs. Bates. I don't think I'd feel very comfortable doing that."

What did she think she was going to do with it? Let random strangers from the streets into the house with it? "Oh, please. The key will be swinging back on its hook before the day starts, I promise."

She hated pleading with a vengeance, but something in her face must have been convincing enough, for Mrs. Brown sighed.

"Very well, then," she relented. "But I won't do it again, so don't start getting any ideas above your station."

"I won't," she said. "And it won't happen again. Thank you so much."

"Mark my words, my girl, I wouldn't be doing any of this if his lordship hadn't agreed to it. Sometimes I think he's far too kind for his own good."

Anna nodded silently, thinking it was the right time to get away before she had to listen to a lecture. She wasn't stupid. She knew that the family was more generous than any other in the county. But she and John had worked hard for them in return, serving them with discretion, keeping their secrets safe – almost to the point where their own relationship had been sacrificed for them. So while Anna was eternally grateful for the things that the family had done for them both over the years, she also secretly felt like they deserved the kindness.

"I'll go and fetch the duplicate," Mrs. Brown sighed, obviously seeing that Anna wasn't paying too much attention anymore. "Wait here."

She did so patiently, and the housekeeper returned a few minutes later dangling the key.

"Now don't lose it, whatever you do," she said. "Otherwise you'll be in trouble."

She was missing the utter trust that Mrs. Hughes put in her without question. "I won't, don't worry. I'll keep it safe."

Mrs. Brown nodded curtly once more, before continuing on her way. Anna turned in the opposite direction, feeling the butterflies beginning to beat wildly in her stomach. She couldn't wait to see John again.

He was waiting for her in the servants' hall, drumming his fingers against the table top. He pushed himself to his feet at once, grinning broadly.

"Well, don't you look the picture," sneered Miss O'Brien from the corner of the room.

"Thank you," said Anna, biting her tongue. She knew that Miss O'Brien was just looking for a fight, jealous as usual.

"Mind you, I suppose we'd all look as happy as you do if the family was as lenient with the rest of us as it is with you," the lady's maid continued bitterly. Mr. Molesley, sitting by her side, buried his head more intently in the newspaper he was holding, evidently hoping to disappear.

Are you ready?" Anna asked, ignoring her.

"I think so, yes," he replied, moving across to her side, cane clacking against the floor.

"Yes, running out the door while the rest of us have to pick up your workload," said Miss O'Brien sourly.

Anna rolled her eyes. "Come on, let's go."

They left without another word, slipping out of the back door, out onto the busy London streets. Knowing that hand-holding in public was regarded rather distasteful, Anna slipped hers into the crook of John's arm, sighing softly as they began to walk slowly together.

"Honestly, anyone would think that this happens on a regular basis," she complained. "We've barely had any time together for weeks."

I know," he sighed. "But Miss O'Brien would gripe no matter what. Don't let her upset you."

Anna snorted. "Believe me, she doesn't upset me. Anyway, let's not talk about her. That's a waste of breath."

It was John's turn to snort this time, casting a sideways grin at his wife. "Anna Bates, where has your cruel streak come from?"

She giggled, squeezing his arm. "It's come from my impatience to be alone with you, that's where."

"Well, I think we need to spend a lot of time together," he growled. "That way, we can be sure to get rid of that terrible trait."

"I won't complain about that," she murmured, and they drifted into silence for a few moments, Anna holding on tightly to her husband's arm as they were jostled down the street.

"Am I permitted to comment on how lovely you look?" he asked her.

She giggled again. "I do believe you are, Mr. Bates."

"Good. Because you look absolutely stunning."

The teasing grin died on her lips at the utter honesty in his eyes. He had stopped them both short on the street, and was staring at her intently, his gaze drifting over every inch of her person with an intense, loving scrutiny that he reserved only for her. She felt her cheeks colour delicately as she watched him watching her, unheeding of the grumbling around them as they slowed the people around them down.

"Why thank you," she said, trying to keep the mood light. "You don't look bad yourself."

"No, I mean it," he said seriously, looking deep into her eyes. "You look incredible."

"And I meant it too," she said determinedly. "My perfect husband."

"My perfect wife," he countered, and she chuckled. He never could accept a compliment.

They continued walking down the street then, aware of the grousing getting louder, and Anna tightened her grip on her husband's arm, casting her eye over him surreptitiously. He certainly had made an effort this evening, and the thought made her smile. Although he hadn't brought anything other than his travelling suit with him because he hadn't known of her plans, it was clear that he'd done his best to make it as nice as possible – Anna could imagine him now, brushing painstakingly at the suit, making sure that all traces of lint and everything else were gone. His hat was reasonably new – an old one that Lord Grantham no longer wanted – and when Anna inhaled deeply, she could detect a fine trace of aftershave. The smell made her stomach flutter.

"So, where are you taking me?" he asked her after a few moments, interrupting her thoughts.

She smiled brightly. "Just a little restaurant. It's not too extravagant, so you needn't worry. But I did want to treat you to more than a teacake in a teashop."

"That would have been enough for me," he told her.

She wasn't going to get into that argument again, so she chose not to respond as she pulled him along towards her destination. She wondered what his reaction to her other gift would be, before quickly wiping away the smirk that had formed there. She decided that by that time, John would love his gift too much to complain in any way.

John gasped when he saw the quaint little restaurant that they eventually came to a stop outside of. Anna squeezed his arm lovingly, resting her head against him.

"What do you think?" she asked him.

"I think it's far too much," he told her, and she shook her head in frustration. But then he cupped her face gently in his palm, tilting her head up towards him. "And I also think that if we weren't out in public, I would kiss you. No one has ever done something as wonderful as this for me before."

"That's because I love you more than anyone else," she murmured, internally glowing at his words. "And I think I would like a kiss. Save it for me until we're in private."

"I suppose I can manage that," he sighed. "Even if I do have to wait a few days to be able to."

She smirked knowingly. If only he knew.

* * *

The dinner was lovely. The restaurant was busy, but not overly crowded, which afforded Anna and John the time to talk without being overheard. Their table was squashed in one of the corners, but neither of them minded; they were sat apart from the others in the restaurant, and that was how they liked it. It was rare for them to have time to themselves, so it was nice for them to enjoy the relative solitude, their fingers brushing as they reached for their glasses, their voices low and intimate as they spoke, grinning and giggling over all manner of things. Anna was still glowing inside at the look on her husband's face. This was what she'd been living for on all of those long, lonely nights, with nothing but her doubts to haunt her dreams. Having John close to her, seeing him carefree, more carefree than he'd ever been in his life before, and knowing that _she_ was the reason that he was so happy. Holding him close to her at the end of a night, hearing his breath against her ear, feeling his arms around her. Touching him when they were alone, kissing him, _knowing_ him. It was all so wonderful.

The food was delicious, if rather simple, and it made her smile to see John tucking in with such relish. Clearly, he was enjoying it, and that thought was the one that meant the most. His eyes were crinkling at the corners as he looked at her, and she couldn't help but respond in kind, his contentedness contagious.

"So, are you enjoying your birthday meal?" she asked him conversationally, raising an eyebrow at him and trying to keep serious.

"Oh, most definitely," he said, stabbing a carrot with his fork. "I couldn't have asked for a better one."

"Would you like your present now?" she asked him, watching him chew.

He swallowed. "I thought this was my present."

"You silly beggar, of course it's not. This is a _treat_. There's a difference between the two."

"You're spoiling me, Anna."

"Good," she declared. "I've never been able to spoil you before."

He shook his head, and she caught him rolling his eyes slightly, but she chose to ignore him in favour of pulling out a little box.

"Here," she said, suddenly self-conscious. "Happy Birthday, John."

He reached across the table and covered her shaking fingers with his, gently caressing them, before taking the box into the palm of his hand.

He joked, "this is very intriguing." Slowly, he began to pull away the brown paper that Anna had painstakingly wrapped it in before pulling back the lid.

Nestled within the box were the most beautiful cufflinks that he had ever seen.

"Do you like them?" Anna asked nervously.

He looked up, realising that his eyes suspiciously moist. "I love them. Thank you, Anna."

The look of relief upon her face almost broke his heart. Had she been agonising over his reaction to them? Surely she knew that she could give him nothing but a twig and he would still love it because she had picked it up for him?

"I was sure about them at first," said Anna on cue, as if she could read his mind. "But then I started to doubt that perhaps they weren't enough."

"They're more than enough," he told her firmly. "I've never owned cufflinks like these before in my life."

They were indeed beautiful. Gold and shining, they were engraved with handsome patterns.

"I know they're not very practical," Anna continued. "You can't really wear them to work, and we don't really get any time off, but…"

"Anna, you really must stop finding fault in them," he interrupted her softly. "Truly, they're wonderful. I shall wear them every time we have some time to ourselves."

"Won't you get bored of them?"

"Do I ever get bored of you wearing your garter?" he said lowly, and she felt a surge of heat flood her thighs. The darkening of his pupils was so alluring. And, suddenly, Anna found that she could wait no longer. Standing abruptly, she held out her hand.

"Come on, let's go," she said at his questioning look.

"What? We're not going to stay for dessert? I thought you'd be paying for that too!"

She rolled her eyes at his teasing. "You can have dessert at the show. Your favourite kind."

"And how do you know they'll have my favourite dessert there?" he asked teasingly, though he complied, beginning to shrug his coat on.

She licked her lips. "Oh, believe me, they'll have your favourite dessert."

John regarded her strangely for a moment, before shaking his head. "I'll just take care of the bill. Wait here."

_Damn_. In her haste, Anna had forgotten all about such trivial matters. Still, she wasn't about to go back on her word. In any case, she could probably force her way to the front easier than John, especially when she knew what was to come and he didn't. "You've already forgotten that _I'm_ supposed to be the one paying tonight. _You_ wait here. I'll just be a few minutes."

John shrugged, taking his cane in hand. Anna knew that he was staring after her, but she ignored him as she made her way over to the bar area.

It was finally time to put the part of the evening that she'd been looking forward to most into action.

She couldn't wait.

* * *

Ten minutes later, they had made their way from the busy main street down a quaint little road that was leading away from the bustle of central London life. Although there were less people around, Anna didn't quite dare to take her husband's hand so boldly. Instead, she kept a firm grip on the crook of his arm, walking tight against his side.

"Where exactly are you taking me?" he asked her after a while, when it became apparent that they were no longer in the stream of society. "I would have thought that all of the main shows were in the middle of London, not out here on the fringes."

"Well, that's where you're wrong," she told him with a grin. "The show we're going to is exclusive. We can't have just anyone coming in to watch it."

"You make it sound very mysterious. Are you ever going to tell me what it is that we're going to be watching?"

"You'll find out soon enough, John."

John shrugged, the clack of his cane loud against the pavement. "Very well. I'll trust your instincts. They're usually right."

Anna's grin broadened. Oh yes, they certainly were.

It was another ten minutes before Anna began to slow her pace slightly, her eyes darting from building to building as she went. John noticed the way that her gaze was skimming about, and fixed her with a slightly quizzical look.

"What is it, Anna?" he asked her.

"We're almost here," was her absent reply.

John looked dubious. "Here? There's nothing to see around here."

"That's where you're wrong. In fact – ah, here it is!"

She had come to a sudden stop in front of a quaint little building, bigger than average in size, squashed in between a bakery and a tea shop. A sign swung from a post outside. _The King's Crown_.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," said John, "but isn't this a…hotel?"

"That's right," she said brightly.

"We're here…at a hotel?"

She smirked, nodding.

"I don't understand. What sort of show goes on at a hotel?"

Anna had to resist the urge to roll her eyes with great difficulty. She would never be able to fathom John Bates. He had experiences of the world that she couldn't even comprehend, he had probably experienced more women than she cared to think about, and yet he was truly asking her what sort of show could take place at a _hotel._

"Never mind," she sighed, slipping her hand into his and tugging him along with her. "Just follow me and keep quiet."

He did as he was told, squeezing her fingers lightly. The lobby was empty save for a woman behind the front desk, who looked up and smiled cheerily at them as they entered. Anna let go of John's hand.

"Stay here," she told him, leaving him against the door, and stepped forward, while John lingered behind, inspecting the area. It was cosy and quaint, well-furbished and well-worn, the kind of place that clearly looked homely. The kind of place that he and Anna would like to own themselves one day.

"Hello," Anna said lowly to the woman at the desk. "We have a room booked for the evening. It's under Mrs. Bates."

"Mrs. Bates?" The woman ran her finger down the carefully scripted names on the page in front of her. "Oh yes, there you are. You're in room one-three-seven. Here's the key. Have you any luggage that you'd like help with?"

Anna shuffled, feeling the tips of her ears burn, taking the key from her hand. "Um, no. We're fine, thank you."

The woman shrugged uninterestedly. "Very well then. The stairs are through the door to your right."

Anna nodded, and turned back to John. "John, come on."

"Come where?"

"Just follow me," she said. John followed her at once, catching her hand as they passed through the doors together. He finally seemed to be catching on.

"I don't think this is quite what I was expecting," he murmured at her, smirking as she led him down the carpeted hallway, eyes sliding along the gold numbers adorning the doors.

"Maybe it isn't," she said airily, coming to a pause outside a door. Slowly, she turned to face him, pressing her back against the door, tilting her chin up. John couldn't resist pressing her back against it, his arms sliding around her waist, his body pressing against hers heavily. Slowly, he took the key from her hand.

"So I'm assuming that there isn't a show," he said as he slowly slid the key into the lock, bending his head closer to hers as he turned the key decisively.

"Well, I wouldn't quite put it like that," she said, pressing herself up on her tiptoes. "But I think the viewing will be a little more…private than you'd probably first thought."

"I can't say that I really mind that," he growled, pushing the door open with a creak. Anna smirked as she backed herself up, tugging him along with her. He fumbled with the key and shut the door behind them.

Silence, bathed in darkness. For a moment, the two of them fumbled against the wall, searching for some sort of switch, before John found what he was looking for and flicked it. Light flooded the room.

"There, that's much better," Anna declared, already beginning to unbutton her coat. Moving over to the little chair standing in the corner of the room, she carefully laid it there, unpinning her hat and laying it on top of the seat. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed John doing the same, leaving his cane leaning against the wall.

"This is much cosier," he rumbled at her, sliding his arms around her waist as he reached her. "I have no idea what gave you such a delicious idea, Mrs. Bates, but it's certainly one of the better ones that I've heard."

"Why, thank you," she said teasingly, reaching up to cup his face.

"Now, how do you suppose we'll spend our time here?" he asked her lowly, his hands drifting to cup her backside daringly. She pressed herself against him with a grin, fingers stroking his cheeks.

"I think we'll stick to the original plan," she purred. "You're in for a treat of a show tonight, Mr. Bates."

His brow furrowed. "In what way?"

"Why don't you go and sit on the bed?" she said. "Then you'll find out."

He couldn't resist dipping his head to kiss her before he did so, his tongue running lightly over her bottom lip. She opened up to him at once, fingers scrunching in his hair, body flush against his. The smell of her perfume invaded his senses and made him dizzy. He clutched desperately at her hips, afraid that he'd topple over if he left the comfort of her grounding stability. When his hands began to knead her clothed backside, however, she pulled away from him.

"The bed, Mr. Bates," she purred. She let him go and he groaned lightly, turning to look at the space that she'd indicated. The bed certainly looked inviting. The pillows looked plump and sumptuous, and he wondered what it would be like to sink down on them, to feel Anna's silken skin all around him on such lovely sheets. And soon he would. Slowly, he walked over to it, lingering at the edge.

"Sit down," Anna told him, smirking slightly.

John complied at once, settling himself down on the edge. He swallowed hard as she advanced on him, eyes gleaming. There were a thousand questions running through his head, but he couldn't voice even one of them as she stalked deliberately towards him like a predator. Slowly, she ran a finger down his cheek. He suppressed the urge to shiver with great difficulty.

"Now," she breathed, "your show is about to start. I want you to sit there attentively, and I don't want you to move. You're not allowed to lift even a finger."

"And what if I do?" he teased her lightly, raising his arms to wrap them around her waist.

She pushed him away with a wicked grin. "Then the show will stop and you'll find yourself severely disappointed."

He chuckled, and she ran her finger down his face once more before stepping away from him.

"You're very lucky, you know," she commented conversationally as she walked a short distance away from him.

"And why's that?" he asked her, feigning indifference even as he wanted to tell her that he already knew that. She was evidently playing, and he didn't want to spoil her teasing.

"Because," she exhaled, and he found himself dumbstruck by the heat that he found in her eyes, "you're the only one I would consider doing this for."

"Doing what for?"

"This," she breathed and then, slowly, flicked open the button at the base of her throat. John's breath caught, and he couldn't find it again. Deliberately, Anna parted the material at her throat and tilted her head back, giving him the perfect view of the soft, milky expanse of flesh. She flexed the muscles there, and he felt the temperature of the room shoot up several degrees. Good God, was she going to…?

He didn't need to complete his thought, because Anna answered it before it had even fully formed. Slowly, she pulled open the line of buttons down her front, parting the material all the way, giving him a generous view of her shift. It looked new, made of something like satin. Usually she would scoff at such an extravagance, saying that she was perfectly happy with her old clothes because they were practical. There was something about seeing her swathed in finery, however. Anna _belonged_ in finery. She was the most beautiful woman in the world to him, and she deserved to be swaddled in the best. She looked like royalty, or a goddess, standing there with her dress parted.

"So you like it?" she asked him huskily, letting her eyes half-lid as she regarded him.

Did he like it? Good God, what a question. "I think you know the answer to that," he said, his voice unsteady.

"I'm glad," she said in a sing-song voice. "I bought it for you."

"Anna, come here." He didn't care if he sounded rather pathetic.

Her grin broadened. "Why?"

"Because I want to give you the attention that you deserve in such finery," he said huskily, offering his hand.

"But that's the problem," she smirked. "_I'm_ the one who is supposed to be giving _you_ the attention. It _is_ your birthday, after all."

"Perhaps we can reach a mutual agreement," he murmured, beginning to stand up.

"Stay there," she warned him. "Or else I'll button myself back up right now and you won't see what else I'm wearing underneath here."

Sweet Christ, was she trying to kill him? The images running free in John's head were almost too much to take. He felt himself stir more urgently.

"Good boy," she cooed patronisingly when she saw that he was staying still. "I think you deserve a reward for that."

Slowly, she shrugged the dress from her shoulders, letting the top of it pool around her waist. John couldn't suppress his groan as he looked at her standing like that. The shift was lower than he had expected it to be, barely grazing the tops of her breasts and giving him a delightful view of the miles upon miles of creamy skin that had been exposed to his eyes. Her shoulders were back, strong and slight. John wished he could go to her now, fit his mouth to those shoulders, kiss and lick and nip at them until they were reddened under his touch. He thought that her shoulders were appealing at the best of times, but there was something so alluring about seeing them accentuated by the sheerness of her shift.

"If you carry on, I'll soon be naked for you," she purred, allowing the dress to fall gently down to the floor. John didn't care that he was staring. Anna was used to it now after the months that they had lived together in their cottage. In fact, she seemed to relish it, stepping carefully out of her dress and casting a grin his way as she stood before him, her legs still covered tantalisingly. She stalked a few paces nearer to him, coming to a rest beside him on the bed. John reached out a hand to touch her reverently, but she caught him.

"You're not supposed to be touching," she said accusingly. "I mean it, I'll put my dress back on if you don't co-operate."

"You'd make a fine housekeeper," he grumbled, gasping a little as she nibbled his fingertips teasingly.

"I suppose I would," she agreed, lapping at his fingertips now, like a cat attacking a saucer of milk. "Happily for me, I'll be retiring one day to order our children around."

They shared a smile, the unspoken promise for that moment running between them. One day, that would happen for them. Sooner or later, they would be parents. John knew it.

"Now," Anna continued, changing the subject back to the matter at hand. "I want you to promise me that you won't touch me."

"But why not?" he protested. "It was bad enough when you were standing by the door, never mind sitting next to me."

"You had great self-restraint before we married," she said playfully.

"I had to have it. If I hadn't, I fear we would have done something very stupid."

"But very enjoyable."

"Oh, I don't doubt that," he growled, shifting closer.

"Well, this will be very enjoyable if you follow my instructions."

"Very well," he sighed. "I'll trust you on this."

"Thank you, love," she chirped, then brought her legs up, stretching them out in front of her. John's eyes were drawn immediately to them. They were slender and supple, moulded into perfection by the long, hard years of labour. They weren't incredibly long (Anna herself was so petite that it often gave John reason to pause, especially when he held her in his arms), but he still found them incredibly distracting. It was harder to concentrate at work now that the ladies' hems had risen and he was given more than just a glimpse of his wife's ankles as they worked. Sometimes she would cross them underneath the table and he would almost drop whatever he was holding, overcome with the sudden desire to have them wrapped around him. Now, he watched enraptured as she began to roll her stockings down, her fingers caressing her skin as she worked, her sighs soft. He found that he could not tear his eyes away from those slender slopes, enraptured by the way that the muscles in her calves flexed. He had the sudden urge to take her legs and shower them in kisses, right down to the last dainty toe. Anna giggled to herself as she watched his gaze darken, letting the stocking slip gently from her toes to the floor. She watched the expressions flicker across his face as she moved to repeat the action with her other leg, gently allowing her fingers to explore the soft skin that was revealed, moaning softly as she allowed her fingernails to rake over the newly exposed skin gently.

"Anna," John said, and she was pleased to hear the desperation in his voice. "Anna, please."

"Please what?" she purred, bringing her legs up to rub against his thigh seductively.

He actually _whimpered_ at that, stretching out his arms to touch her. She kept him at bay with a palm against his chest, feeling the rapid thumping of his heart beneath her fingertips.

"Have you forgotten what I told you, Mr. Bates?" she said. "You're not to lift a finger."

"Anna –"

"I know," she soothed him gently. "But you're here to see a show. You're the spectator. And it would be terribly rude of you to interrupt the show before it's even got to the best bit."

"It might be better for my health if I do," he groaned, letting his eyes roam over her body.

"Soon," she promised him. "But we're getting to the best part of the show. You need to watch very carefully."

As if he could do any different as she pushed herself gracefully to her feet, hips swaying mesmerisingly, flashes of her legs peeping from under the swish of her shift. He licked his suddenly dry lips as he watched her turn back to look at him, biting at her full bottom lip provocatively. John felt hypnotised as he watched her slowly bringing the shift up her body, the material making a whispering sound against her skin. Each centimetre of skin that was newly exposed made him even more desperate to cast aside her warnings and take her in his arms, to wrestle the remaining clothes off until she was naked beneath his hands.

The shift was up to the naked planes of her flat stomach now, and the breath caught in his throat. He was vaguely aware of Anna smirking triumphantly at him, but he was too drawn to her undergarments to pay too much attention to her face.

She was wearing a new pair, there was no mistaking it. Anna's usual choices were plain and simple, matching her practical nature. The ones that she was wearing now were decidedly more risqué, boldly coloured black and red. John admired the bottom. They were shorter than usual, barely grazing her thighs. John had no idea what they were or where they'd come from, but he felt his body responding eagerly at once. Whatever the story behind them, he found he did not care.

"My God," he breathed, pupils pooling at the sight of her. He edged himself closer to the edge of the bed, Adam's apple bobbing.

Anna cleared her throat, and watched as his eyes reluctantly found hers. She held his gaze heatedly as she continued to draw her shift up her body, past her breasts, over her head…

John's loud groan drowned out the soft flump of the shift hitting the carpet. His eyes had widened an alarming degree, and she slowly moved her hands to brace them against her hips. She pushed out her breasts and fluttered her eyelashes provocatively.

"Will I do, Mr. Bates?" she asked him coquettishly, letting her eyes linger over his body. He could only make a choked sound in reply.

She was wearing a corset that matched her undergarments. It was cinched tightly. Her breasts – so small and pert and delicious – were straining against their restraints. They seemed fuller in that corset, and the sight of them bulging had him stirring more pointedly than ever in his trousers. It was trimmed with black lace, a stark contrast to her pale skin, and he longed to see it on the floor. The sides cut in sharply, leaving the bare skin of her sides open to his imagination. Standing there before him in such an attire, John didn't think that he'd ever seen her looking more beautiful. Her eyes, laced with darkness, burned into his. Would she do?

"Oh God, yes," he groaned, shifting his hips to relieve some of the pressure that was pressing urgently at the front of his trousers.

It made her feel powerful to know that she could arouse him just be taking her clothes off for him. It made her feel so loved, so beautiful, to know that he desired her so much.

"Happy Birthday, John," she breathed huskily, allowing a finger to trace the edge of her straining breasts. He moaned needfully, beginning to stand.

"Take it off," he muttered, moving towards her.

She batted her eyelashes, not bothering to contain her sigh of pleasure as she stroked her breast more fully. "Already? You don't want to enjoy your birthday present a little longer?"

"I'd enjoy it even more if it was on the floor," he growled at her, reaching out to touch her.

She allowed him to for a moment, shuddering under his insistent hands. "But feel how silky it is. Wouldn't you like to stroke it for a little longer?"

"I'd be much happier stroking your silky skin," he growled at her. "Take it off. Please, Anna."

"Well, since you asked so nicely, and since it _is_ your birthday, I suppose I can," she sighed. "But you're to sit on the bed again."

"I can help you," he growled, dropping his lips to her shoulder. "I'll be your willing assistant."

"You're supposed to be the audience," she purred. "Now, stop being disobedient. Mr. Molesley wouldn't be nearly as problematic."

John wrinkled his nose. "Anna, please," he said, taking her skin gently between his teeth, "I don't want to think of Mr. Molesley when you're like this. You're mine."

"All yours, darling," she confirmed, letting a hand snake between their bodies to test how ready he was. She smirked at the heated hardness. He was more than ready. "But if you don't get back to that bed right now, I'll be forced to put my clothes back on and leave you here."

"You wouldn't," he said, melding his lips to the sensitive spot on her neck.

"Oh, believe me, I would," she said, pleased that she had managed to keep her voice steady, squeezing him gently. "Do you really want to test me?"

It took all of his willpower to tear himself away from her neck, and she beamed triumphantly at him. They stared at each other for a moment before John began to retreat reluctantly towards the bed. She waited until he'd settled himself and his eyes were firmly back on her before she raised her hands round to her back. Slowly, she began to loosen the ties on the corset, allowing the corset to slip looser with every new tie that she unravelled. She heard John's sharp intake of breath. It felt good to breathe more easily, and she filled her lungs gratefully as the corset loosened over her ribs, her breasts swelling with air. His eyes were riveted to her, and she noticed that his knuckles had gone white as he gripped the bed sheets tightly in his fingers. She took her time with the corset, getting her husband on edge, hearing his sharp pants for breath…

…And then she let it fall to the floor.

"The undergarments," he begged. "The undergarments."

"As you wish, sir," she simpered, hooking her thumbs within them and drawing them slowly down. He was almost panting as she drew them down, and she lingered for just a few moments, letting her fingers brush experimentally over herself. And then she continued onwards, letting them slip down her legs, kicking them off with a dainty flick as they reached her ankles.

She was naked now, but there was still one thing left to do.

She reached her hands up to her hair, delicately seeking out the pins that were holding her hair in place. She withdrew them slowly, letting the curls spring free, little wisps that brushed her shoulders teasingly. Biting her lip, she found the last pin and pulled it out.

Golden curls tumbled like golden liquid down her back and past her shoulders,giving her the image of fake modesty. This time John couldn't help but groan aloud. His hands were trembling.

"Christ," he said hoarsely.

She walked towards him slowly, never taking her eyes off him. "You like what you see?"

"Do you even need to ask?" he countered dazedly. "God, Anna. I want you."

"Then you shall have me," she said. "Sit back against the headboard."

He shuffled up the bed immediately, eager and obedient, and she strode towards him over the duvet on her hands and knees, spine protruding elegantly. John reached out to touch her as she sat herself up on his lap.

"Hello," she purred, catching his hand as it snaked towards her bare backside.

"Hello," he growled, dipping his head to her collarbone. She sighed as he sucked there delicately, letting his tongue lap at her, running her fingers through his hair and loosening it effectively.

She turned her attention to his hand, resting naturally against her naked hip. She grinned wickedly, picking it up from where it lay. Slowly, she brought his fingertips to her mouth, kissing and nibbling at them lovingly, even pulling his forefinger into her mouth as he groaned.

"I love your hands, Mr. Bates," she said huskily around his fingers. "Do you know why?"

"Why?" he moaned. He could feel his lower half beginning to throb, right against Anna's thigh. He resisted the urge to buck his hips against her.

"Because of how innocent they seem to other people," she breathed. "When Mr. Carson or Mrs. Hughes or his lordship look at you with a piece of clothing in your hands, they think, _what fine working hands Mr. Bates has_. But when _I_ see the same thing…" She trailed off long enough to wrap her tongue around his forefinger, before continuing. "Well, I see something completely different. I see hands that know how to please me. I feel your hands cupping me breasts. I feel you fingers over me."

"Anna, please," he begged as she slipped his fingers from her mouth.

She only grinned in response. Slowly, she ran her fingers to his wrist, seeking out the buttons there, flicking them open painstakingly. "And then there are yours wrists," she continued. "Do you know how much I like to touch them?" She emphasised her point by flicking her tongue against the skin there, feeling the pounding of his pulse, hearing him grunt. "They're so sensitive. I didn't know a man could be so sensitive in such an area."

"Well, I am," he moaned, shifting his hips. "Anna, you're being terribly unfair."

She rolled up his shirtsleeve, exposing his forearm, kissing her way up the length of it, feeling the strong muscles contorting beneath her lips. John had fine forearms, the best. She couldn't remember the times that she had tried not to stare at them when he'd sat with his shirtsleeves rolled up in the servants' hall, or the number of times that she has thought about them wrapped around her body. She told him as much now, circling his elbow gently, caressing the rough skin there softly, listening to his breath hitching. She bestowed a kiss against his lips, slowly sliding her fingers to the tie around his neck.

"This thing must be tight," she murmured, loosening it dextrously, throwing it triumphantly to the floor when she'd worked it free. She moved her attention to his stiff collar then, pulling it free and dispatching of it somewhere else in the room. At once she attached her lips to the expanse of skin that had been exposed to her touch, suckling there gently, finding the sensitive spot at the underside of his jaw, cooing in delight when she made it redden.

"Anna…" John groaned warningly. Anna giggled, shifting so that she was sitting directly over the heated hardness tenting the front of his trousers.

"It's all right," she said consolingly. Her fingers danced down his front as they flicked open the buttons on his waistcoat with ease. She pushed it aside as soon as she could, carefully disentangling his pocket watch and placing it gently on the wooden surface beside the bed. Then she returned her attention to the white starch of his shirt. When she had undone the buttons to his stomach, her fingers lingered for a moment, feeling him quivering slightly, before decisively parting the material, revealing the broad expanse of her husband's chest. She purred wickedly, nuzzling her nose in the thick thatch of hair that drizzled generously over the expanse of his skin. She trailed her mouth to the side, closing her lips over his nipple.

John groaned, feeling little pricks of pleasure needling at his skin where she let her teeth graze against him. Anna curled her lips deliciously around the bud, and he groaned louder, hips bucking up inadvertently. She reached a hand up to curl delectably in the thick hair of his chest, winding it through her fingers. He always loved it when she did that. No woman had ever had such an enthrallment with his chest before. She pulled herself away, glancing up at him with eyes that danced with mischief. Obviously reading the desire in his gaze, she allowed her mouth to stretch into a lazy grin. He held her gaze heatedly, letting it rake over the curve of her shoulders and the dip of her spine and the swell of her buttocks, always letting his eyes return to hers. His gaze was clearly having the right effect, for she allowed her hands to drop lower, right to the waistband of his trousers.

"I think these are in the way," she said huskily, busily seeking out the buttons that held his trousers together. "Let's get them off."

He nodded breathlessly, sighing heavily as she slowly worked the button free. The pressure on the front of his trousers was almost unbearable. He desperately needed to be completely free of the confines of his clothes.

Anna worked steadily for a moment as she gently eased the trousers down his thighs. John raised his hips welcomingly, allowing Anna to slip them over his backside, easing them down his legs. She didn't even bother going slowly. She needed to see her husband as near to naked as possible, never mind him. When the trousers were away from his ankles, she dropped them quickly over the side of the bed, turning her attention deliciously back to her husband. A grin curled itself at the edges of her mouth at the sight of him. The front of his shorts were tented terribly. Anna couldn't resist cupping him through the material. He grunted, bucking his hips up slightly. She moved closer to him, catching his lips in a kiss, her hand not moving from that heated hardness. She explored him earnestly through his shorts. It was probably torture for him, having to be so restricted, and she took pity on him when he made a muffled moan against her lips. Then she pulled away from him, parting her knees beneath him, shifting so that she covered his own.

"Let me see if I can help you," she cooed, hooking her fingers into the waistband. She deliberately allowed her fingers to caress his hips as she pulled them down, past his erection. It sprang free at once. Anna couldn't supress her sound of appreciation at the sight of it. She doubted that the thrill that accompanied that first glimpse of him would ever cease. After years of waiting and desperately yearning for the intimacy between them, now that they could truly enjoy it, she knew that she would never take it for granted. Still, she forced herself not to pause for too long, pulling his shorts the rest of the way down as she shifted from his knees. When she had them clutched in his hands, she held his gaze as she lazily cast them off the side of the bed. His socks soon followed.

"That's much better," she purred, stretching out on top of him. "I can feel you properly now." Pointedly, she slid her stomach against him, and he spasmed with a surprised grunt. Tendrils of pleasure had snared themselves around him, and he could feel them snaking out in every direction, tingling the pit of his stomach. There was something about seeing Anna like this – so flushed and naked and _in control_ – that gave him feelings that he had never experienced before. It was different to the other times that she had taken charge.

Anna's eyes were hot as she watched the pleasure flit across his face. She shifted further down his body. Her breasts were pressing into his knees now, and he felt a pang at the loss of contact on his upper body, even as he sighed at the feel of her comforting weight against him. Her eyes were gleaming with a frenzied kind of light. She gently trailed a fingernail down the inside of his thigh. He held his breath in anticipation of what was to come as she slowly edged herself nearer. Gently, her fist cupped itself around his base. The pleasure that rifled through his body at that touch was almost unbearable. She drew her fist up all the way to the top, squeezing him just slightly. His hips left the bed at the sensation. The pleasure was like needles in his flesh, an acute stabbing of ecstasy that spiralled out uncontrollably from his stomach She was incredible at what she did, knowing how to please him the most. Anna bent her head low over his chest, seeking out a nipple. She had never really paid such attention to that area before, and John was beginning to realise that he was more sensitive than he'd ever believed. Her tongue laved itself around him, and he couldn't prevent himself from shuddering unintentionally, his limbs tightening. He felt the curve of her lips and then the press of her teeth as she smiled against him. He gasped aloud, letting his head fall backwards. Her spare hand came up to tangle in the thick hairs on his chest, splaying out her fingers to cover as much ground as possible. Her hair cascaded down around her and tickled his skin as she ran her tongue around the puckered rim. Her hand was still wreaking havoc against him. John gritted his teeth hard, his hips helplessly pushing up against her hand. He tried to thrust against her harder, faster, the fire beginning to roar towards a peak in his veins. The combination of her sure hands and her hot mouth was going to be enough to send him crashing over the edge…

And that was when Anna pulled away from him sharply, releasing her hand from around the base of his shaft, her head jerking up. He couldn't help but groan in dismay as the pleasure, which had been swelling so inevitably inside him, retreated once again into that maddening, throbbing ache, scratching at the edges of his mind. He raised his hips again, desperate to garner more contact with _any_ part of her body.

"Now, now," Mr. Bates," she scolded him, settling herself carefully across his knees. "It really would have been unfair of you if you'd finished without telling me. It's a good thing that I'm used to you by now." Her smirk was delicious, and he would have liked nothing more than to smother it with his lips.

"I thought it was my birthday?" he murmured, trying to nudge her closer with the back of his heel.

She smirked lazily. "Perhaps. But I'm not unselfish enough to not want some pleasure of my own."

Clumsily, she began to climb urgently back up his body. She took hold of him delicately. He hissed. She shushed him gently, guiding him to the place where he needed to be.

And then she was taking him all the way inside, and he was drowning in the feel of her. He bucked his hips up desperately, the noise that escaped him nothing more than a guttural sound that made no sense to either of them. And yet, implicitly, Anna understood.

She bent down and captured his lips earnestly as she began to rock her hips in earnest against him. The pleasure was instant, overwhelming. He settled for plundering her mouth with more rigour, seeking out the crevices of her mouth, behind her teeth. She shuddered when she felt his tongue at the back of her mouth, scrunching her hands into his hair, tugging ardently at his short locks. John had never realised that such an action could make the pleasure intensify in his veins until that moment, and he moaned into her mouth. She couldn't bear the thought of losing contact from him for even a second, so settled for short, sharp repetitive thrusts of her hips. She could feel the pleasure welling up in her stomach, filling every pore with an aching tingle, an itching, frustrating desire for the end.

Pulling herself away from John's mouth, she took the opportunity to push him more deeply inside her. He groaned loudly, his eyes glazing.

"John," she said breathlessly. "John." Her fingers tightened in his hair, her elbows digging into his shoulders. She could formulate no other words, no other command, but he seemed to know exactly what to do. She wriggled herself higher, careful not to disturb the hot rhythm that she had built between the two of them, and John thrust his neck forward mindlessly, opening his mouth wide, enveloping one of her nipples.

She wailed with pure ecstasy, her eyes slamming closed. John Bates knew his way around her breasts very well indeed. Her fingernails bit into his scalp as she felt the pleasure threaten to overwhelm her. His name and declarations of love were mixed in with her gasps, and she brought one hand down to tweak at his own nipples. The pleasure that flooded his body at the sudden contact made him bite down unintentionally hard, but the vibration of his lips and the swipe of his tongue soon made her forget the brief discomfort. He followed her mindlessly as she continued to rock against him. There was the slap of her bottom against his thighs as she pushed down on him, keening at the friction between them. John's groans against her breasts were an almost constant stream now. His tongue and his teeth were beginning to lose their precision. He was almost at his peak.

Fire rushed through his veins like a maelstrom, swirling frenziedly in his stomach. The hairs on his body began to stand on end. A chill overcame him. The aching in his lower half had risen to an unbearable level. Anna's hand left his nipple, and he pulled his head away enough to watch her movements through milky eyes, extending his tongue enough to sweep it down the salty hollow between her breasts. With a groan, he felt himself swell unbearably inside her.

It was enough to send Anna over the edge too. She threw her head forward until her cheek pressed against his head, the pleasure white-hot and all-encompassing, chasing down every nerve in her body. It was over too soon, and she slumped shakily against him, too shaken to even contemplate moving. John was panting equally hard, his forehead pressed against her breasts. For a few moments, neither of them could muster the energy to move or even speak, but then she slipped from his body to rest by his side. He twisted to follow her, his dark eyes loving.

"Well," she said, "did you enjoy your show?"

He smirked at her. "I did. It was quite unexpected, but it was still very entertaining."

"I'm glad."

He bent to kiss her, and she sighed against his lips. It was a gentle kiss, not as passionate as the ones that they had shared at the height of their desire, but Anna didn't enjoy it any less. She sighed again, happily, when he drew her into his arms and held her tight, his hands spanning her waist. She rested her cheek against the beginning of his chest hair, closing her eyes, simply basking in the feel of him all around her. Anna adored making love and the feelings that came with it, but there was something special about simply lying in his arms in the aftermath of their exertion, spent and sated and just beginning to feel bleary with the promise of sleep. In these moments, there was no better feeling in the world than feeling his body weight against her and knowing that they had brought each other to such a relaxed state. She curled her own arm around his hip, snuggling further into him.

"I really have enjoyed today, you know," he told her softly, leaving a kiss against her shoulder. "You spoiled me."

"You deserve to be spoiled," she replied, kissing his nose. He squeezed her tighter.

"I'll have to pull out all the stops to ensure that you enjoy your birthday as much as I've enjoyed mine," he said.

"I'm sure you can succeed at that," she told him, ruffling his hair softly. She loved it when it looked dishevelled, mussed by her ardour. "Besides, you've got lots of time to prepare for it."

He kissed her cheek, then settled down further.

"What time is it?" he asked her. "It must be getting late."

Reluctantly, Anna let go of him as he twisted in her arms. He sat up a little, reaching out for the pocket watch on the bedside cabinet. He squinted for a moment, then put it back down.

"It's midnight," he told her. "I suppose we should get moving soon. They'll be expecting us back at the house."

She shook her head, reaching out for him. "No they're not. I have a spare set of keys to the house, so the others won't wait up for us. I booked this room all night, and I told them that I didn't know what time the show would be finishing. As long as we're back before the servants' breakfast, we can stay here for the night."

"Really? We can stay here?" he asked her.

She nodded. "If you'd like that."

"Of course I'd like that," he told her, and the sincerity in his voice made her melt. "You know I would."

"Just making sure," she murmured, settling down again.

"There's nothing I like better than to feel you sleeping next to me," he said, dipping his head to taste her collarbone. "Well, that and I'm absolutely tired. I don't think I'll be moving for a while yet."

"You're getting too old," she teased him with a huff, rolling herself onto her side so that he could spoon himself against the length of her back, sighing in contentment when he pulled her close and nuzzled softly against the back of her neck.

"Don't deny that you're not tired either," he said. "You love our bed at home."

"But not always for sleeping," she said, grinning wickedly, and he groaned against her skin.

"Don't tempt me, Anna," he warned her.

"But I thought you were too tired."

"I'm tired. But I'm not too old for another go."

She giggled, but settled, sliding her hand into his as he rested it loosely against her stomach. He pressed his lips behind her ear, and she closed her eyes, listening to his breathing deepening against her neck. She knew that they wouldn't have many more hours before they had to get up and return to the house. But for now, she was perfectly content, lying there with her husband pressed against her back, warm and heavy and comforting. She had missed this on these long London nights, alone in her room.

"I love you," she said drowsily.

"I love you too," he replied, squeezing her tighter.

Silence fell then, and she closed her eyes, content with the feel of him around her.

* * *

The next morning, Anna awoke abruptly. It was still dark, the curtains not even letting the slightest bit of light through. She was no longer strewn on top of the covers, covered only be a blanket. She was underneath the sheets now, wrapped up snugly. She couldn't remember being moved in the night, but she smiled sleepily at the thoughtfulness of her husband, who had obviously been the one to move them when the air had cooled.

She stretched out her limbs tiredly, yawning, before realising that John's arms were no longer around her. Keeping her eyes firmly closed, she rolled over onto her other side, reaching out a hand, expecting to feel it come into contact with warm skin.

Nothing but cold sheets.

Her eyes shot open then, and she sat up at once, eyes darting round in a panic. Where was he? What if something had happened while she'd been sleeping, what if –

Her eyes fell on the chink of light emanating from underneath the closed bathroom door, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was all right. He was just in the bathroom. What time was it? It felt like she'd barely been sleeping for five minutes, but if John was up, it had to mean that it was getting close to their leaving time. Groaning, Anna reached across the bed towards the little set of drawers sat on John's side, where she'd placed his pocket watch only hours earlier. Picking it up, she brought it close to her face and squinted through the darkness. A quarter past four. She and John would indeed need to be going soon – they needed to be back at the house for six o'clock, when the others would start to rouse.

Slowly, Anna shuffled herself to the edge of the bed. A dull, thrumming sound had started a few seconds earlier, muffled by the closed door to the bathroom, and she was curious. She felt around for her robe or her nightgown for a few moments before realising that she'd brought neither with her, before sliding reluctantly out of bed. The heat of their lovemaking had long since evaporated from her body and the air had significantly cooled; she shivered violently as she stood there completely naked, wondering if she should at least pull her shift on before going to the bathroom to find out what her husband was up to. She decided against it in the end. It wasn't as if her husband hadn't seen her naked countless times now. Quietly, she padded over to the bathroom door on cold feet, pushing it open with a creak.

She was engulfed at once by a cloud of steam, and she recoiled a little in surprise. Whatever she had been expecting to find, it hadn't been that.

"John?" she called out cautiously.

"Anna?" He sounded surprised at her sudden intrusion.

"What's going on in here?" she asked him, peering around the doorframe.

"I'm…I'm taking a shower." He sounded embarrassed by his admission, but Anna's interest was piqued at once.

"A shower?" she repeated. "I didn't know there was a shower in here!"

"That's because we were more preoccupied by the bed," he teased her. Slowly, she stepped completely into the room, allowing her eyes to adjust to the sudden light and the wave of heat.

"I'm not quite sure it should be as steamy as this," she told him, wrinkling her nose a little.

He sounded more embarrassed than ever. "Well, I've never used one before. I'm not really sure how to control the temperatures."

Anna's vision cleared enough to finally see through the steam. The sight before her had her stopping short at once.

John was standing under the shower head. Her breath snagged in her throat. It shouldn't be a sight that affected her so – she'd seen him bathing several times during their months together in the cottage – but there was something so completely new about seeing him in a shower rather than a bath, and it sent her heart racing. Water streamed in constant rivulets down his face and down his neck, plastering his hair to his forehead and soaking the generous hairs on his chest. Anna found herself fascinated by the path of the droplets, the way that they were sliding down his skin, the way that they were splattering against the floor of the shower.

But most of all, she was drawn to the way that his entire body looked naked and shining with water.

John noticed the path of her eyes and felt his cheeks flush. There was something irresistible about seeing Anna like that, with her hair mussed and her eyes dark, her body completely naked. She wasn't ashamed of the way that she was looking over him, eager and desirous, nor was she ashamed of standing before him with absolutely nothing on. John was glad about that. Despite some initial nerves on their first night as a newly reunited couple, the anticipation and desire had been too great to let those feelings linger for long. And they had never surfaced since, as far as he could tell. Anna was a woman who was confident in who she was, but he also suspected that his heartfelt declarations that she was the most beautiful woman in existence helped her to feel confident about her body.

"Why don't you come here?" he asked her throatily. She raised her eyes to his. The yearning in them almost took his breath. He would never be able to understand what it was about him that she seemed to find so alluring.

"Is there room for me?" she asked him lowly, licking her lips.

He swallowed hard. "I'm sure there's enough room for a small one."

She was under the spray of the shower head in the next instance, kissing him breathless, her arms around his neck. She was getting her hair sodden, her entire body pushing up against his, and he could do nothing but kiss her deliriously.

The rest was inevitable.

* * *

It was later than they had intended when they clattered back into the servants' hall at the Grantham's London home. Their detour of making love, while incredibly enjoyable, had left them with less time than they'd originally planned to spare.

"We have to hurry," panted Anna, unpinning her hat. "We must be ready to serve Lady Mary and his lordship!"

"You think I don't know that?" John groaned in despair, gritting his teeth as he forced his leg to move faster.

"If we can just manage to avoid seeing anyone until we've got back to our rooms, we should be safe," said Anna, clattering up the first few stairs. "No one needs to know –"

"No one needs to know what?"

They both froze and paled as the voice issued quietly behind them. It seemed to be by mutual choice that they turned to face the intruder in their conversation.

"Good morning," Anna greeted Mrs. Brown in what she hoped was a cheerful voice. "Isn't it a beautiful morning?"

"Where have you been?" the housekeeper asked without preamble, eyeing them suspiciously.

"Just out for a walk, "replied Anna breezily. "It was such a lovely morning, we couldn't resist."

"In yesterday's clothes?"

"We didn't really fancy going out dressed in our uniforms, did we, Mr. Bates?"

"No," John murmured, obviously utterly embarrassed at being caught.

"And what time did you get in last night? It must have been very late."

"Oh, it was. The show ran over a little later than we expected. It was probably about one."

"One? That is late. Did you have a nice time?"

"Yes, we did," said Anna. John's cheeks had turned a little rosy.

"And you must have been up very early this morning to enjoy a walk in the dark."

"It was only a one-off," said Anna dismissively.

"And to have made your beds so neatly," said Mrs. Brown, and there was a note in her voice that neither of them could quite place, caught somewhere between amusement and disapproval. "They're so immaculate, it hardly appears that you've slept in them."

Now both Anna and John's cheeks were burning. The housekeeper raised her eyebrows at them.

"We need to get changed," muttered Anna, turning away again. "We'll be down for breakfast soon."

"See that you are," said Mrs. Brown, watching as the two scurried quickly up the staircase. She wasn't stupid. She knew that neither of them had come back last night, and she knew that in all likelihood, they had been spending their time together most effectively, judging from their dishevelled looks. And while such improprieties weren't really acceptable and horrified her slightly that they were being _allowed_ to take place, no matter how pleasant Mr. and Mrs. Bates were, she couldn't help but allow her mouth to curve up in a slight smile.

Mr. and Mrs. Bates were in love, and it was always a grand thing to see.

* * *

Anna was glad when breakfast was over and she could escape upstairs to see to Lady Mary for the morning. Miss O'Brien and Mr. Molesley had been shooting suspicious glances at both her and John all over breakfast. She suspected it had a lot to do with the fact that her hair was still damp, unfortunately not dried from their escapades in the shower, and John had not had the time to shave the shadow of stubble that darkened his jaw, a new look that obviously piqued the interest of both of the other lady's maid and valet. The housekeeper and butler studiously ignored them both, acting as though there was nothing out of the ordinary happening.

So yes, Anna was most grateful indeed to make her escape.

"Good morning," Lady Mary greeted her when she opened the door.

"Good morning, milady," Anna returned as she set the breakfast tray down on the side. "Did you sleep well?"

"Oh yes, very well," answered Lady Mary as she picked up a slice of toast and bit into it daintily.

There was silence for a moment as Anna went around collecting dirty laundry, piling it up on a chair so that she could gather it easily when she left the room. Lady Mary reached for her tea before pausing.

"I almost forgot to ask you," she said, "did Bates enjoy his birthday?"

Anna couldn't stop the smirk from overtaking her face, though she tried her very best. "I think so, milady. We had a very nice time together, thank you."

"And what about the show? What was it about?"

"Well, it's a little hard to explain," she said, the smirk still playing about her lips. "But I think Mr. Bates found it a lot more exciting than he'd thought it would be."

"What time did it finish?" she asked conversationally.

"Late. We didn't get much sleep."

Lady Mary frowned. There was something odd about Anna this morning. She seemed more mysterious, as those she was sharing an inside joke with herself. Lady Mary looked closer. And was her hair…_wet?_ What on earth was going on?

Noticing her stare, Anna cocked her head to one side. "Is there something wrong, milady?"

"What happened to your hair?"

"My hair?" She touched it self-consciously. Lady Mary detected a blush on her cheeks. "Oh, not much. I went out for a bit of fresh air this morning and got caught out in the rain."

Lady Mary turned instinctively towards the recently opened curtains. Sunlight streamed into the room. There wasn't a raincloud in sight.

"Right," she said, sounding utterly unconvinced.

"I'll be back when you've had your breakfast," Anna said quickly. Before Lady Mary could say anything else, she'd darted out of the room, pile of laundry in arms.

Mary shook her head, utterly confused. Anna was usually so dependable and…_normal_. She could always be relied on to be steady and, well, _Anna_; there to give advice, measured and private, but still a confidante for her. Almost a friend, if not for the barriers of their social classes. But this morning there was something completely different about her, a twinkle in her eye that was not ordinarily present.

"_I think Mr. Bates found it a lot more exciting than he'd thought it would be."_

"_We didn't get much sleep."_

It struck her then with some clarity, and she felt the blood drain from her face. It didn't need much to read between the lines. Anna and Bates had been…_intimate_ with each other last night. She didn't know when, or why the show was so significant, but they had. Mary didn't know why she was finding that revelation so shocking. The two had been sharing their own home for a good few months now. It was natural for the two of them to be intimate with each other, to share the same kind of relationship that she and Matthew had. It just wasn't something that she had ever imagined before (or, quite frankly, something that she had never _wanted_ to imagine). Anna had always been just that: Anna. Not a sexual creature in any way. And yet her coy way of speaking today left Mary in no doubt. She had that glow about her, the one she herself always felt after a satisfying night.

Anna and Bates in the throes of passion. Mary pushed her plate away.

Suddenly, she had lost her appetite.

* * *

"Ah, Bates!"

"Good morning, milord," John muttered, hanging his cane over the doorknob as he entered the room. Lord Grantham seemed to be in a very cheerful mood this morning, and he smiled widely at the valet as he began to unbutton his nightshirt, though his grin faded a little as he took a closer look at him.

"I say, Bates, are you feeling all right this morning?"

John cringed a little. "I'm fine, milord. I got in late last night and overslept a little this morning. I'll make myself more respectable for later on."

"Oh, of course. I forgot about that. Did you enjoy your birthday?"

"I did, milord. And thank you again for letting Anna and I have the time off."

"Not at all. You both deserve it. Lady Mary told me that Anna had bought tickets for a show. Did you enjoy it?"

John felt his lip curl at one side, though he tried to keep his face expressionless even as the image of Anna's naked flesh invaded his mind.

"I certainly did," he said neutrally. "In fact, I'd even go as far as saying that it was the best show that London has ever seen."

"Really? It was that good? You'll have to give me the name of it. Perhaps her ladyship and I can see it next time we come up to London."

This time John had to turn away on the pretence of scrutinising the cufflinks that he had laid out, the smirk now wide across his face. "I'm not sure about that, milord. I think it was a one-of-a-kind experience."


End file.
